Streetside confessions of a troubled youth
by angelfire136
Summary: Oneshot.Set in the summer before seventh year. Draco desides to come clean. fistfighting and emotional monologue ensue.


Disclaimer: not mine. nuff said.

Draco Malfoy lounged carelessly on a street curb on Knockturn Alley, accompanied by fellow slytherins Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. He lit a cigarette, and surveyed the crowd. Smoking was Malfoy's new favorite hobby; it helped him relax, and he certainly needed it, what with running from Voldemort's followers and whatnot. He took a long drag and let himself loosen up, not sighting anyone of particular threat amongst the shoppers. He ran a hand through his hair. All the stress was getting to him. He could hardly turn around without mistaking someone for a death eater. Speaking of, he looked at his arm, which was burning yet again. The Dark Mark glowed red, but Draco barely felt the pain anymore, he had grown so used to it. He inspected the skull and snake, tracing their contours. Closing his eyes, he shut his mind to the stream of thoughts that had threatened his serenity, and turned to Blaise.

"What say we get a room here?" he asked. Blaise shrugged.

"Alright" the other teen said. Malfoy looked past and him and raised his eyebrows at Nott. The sandy-brown haired pureblood nodded.

"Sure." He agreed. Malfoy stood up, brushed off his clothes, and put out his cigarette.

"Let's find an Inn. But keep in mind that I am NOT going to stay at the Leaky Cauldron." he stated forcefully. The trio set off around the Alley, looking for a place to spend their nights.

Draco and his two friends found refuge in The Malebolge Inn, on a dark corner of Knockturn Alley. They rented a room and returned to the street, wandering aimlessly throughout the back alleys and twisting lanes of the ominous neighborhood. The three traveled almost silently, until Draco spotted his least favorite group of goody two shoes sitting on a curb of Diagon alley a few yards away. With a malevolent grin, Malfoy advanced.

A woman of about 35 was passing a group of teenagers on a curb. She smiled at them, remembering the innocence of youth. She turned her gaze from them and froze. Something in the dark alley across the street had moved, and her guard instantly was brought up, half-expecting a hit man or kidnapper. What she saw stepping slightly from the shadows was a young wizard in an Armani suit, with blonde hair and piercing silver eyes. He leaned against a wall, surveying the group with a malevolent, calculating look. When his eyes rested on her, he smirked slightly. The teen held a finger to his lips and disappeared into the shadows. The woman turned back to the group, who had continued chatting, not noticing a thing. Several minutes later, the teen returned, this time flanked by two others. As they stepped into broad daylight, the blonde spoke.  
"Oy! Potter!" he called. Harry looked up, and instantly jumped to his feet.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy!" demanded Harry angrily. The rest of the group stood from the curb to back up the boy who lived, looking very angry. The blonde was still cool and calm, smirking slightly at his enemy's anger.

"Came to ask how you and all your pals are. Wounds healing nicely? " he sneered.

Harry purpled with rage and lunged forward, tackling Malfoy. "How dare you, you bastard! How the hell can you even ask that! You… and Snape… KILLED him! You awful, rotten, evil asshole!" the two wrestled, before Malfoy shoved Harry off of him.

"Did you even think about why, Potter! Say Dumbledore asked something of you, and you couldn't do it. He might have been disappointed. But if you don't obey Voldemort's orders, you DIE. I was BORN into this business. I had no choice. Besides, Voldemort sent me there to GET killed, not to kill." declared Malfoy defiantly. Harry stopped at this.

"What!" he asked, looking into Malfoy's eyes to determine if he was telling the truth. "You're serious...? I…what? Why?" he asked, calming down, but remaining on edge. Malfoy's face hardened.

"He sent me there because my father messed up, lost the prophecy. Punishing me was his way of punishing father. So I took the oath, and he gave me the task. The same task not even HE had been able to accomplish. But I couldn't do it. I froze. And now, both sides are searching. I believe I am correct in guessing I am to be seized and questioned upon being sighted by your side?" he questioned. Harry nodded. "Right. Well, I'm supposed to be…ah…terminated, if you will, should any death eater find me. So now I hide. Ha-ha," he chuckled to himself, "hiding in broad daylight, in a place filled with all of you, because"—

"Because it is the one place they wouldn't suspect, for either side, but also the place a death eater could do nothing, even if you were sighted," interjected the woman from the street. Malfoy turned to her, an eyebrow raised, a smirk adorning his handsome face.

"That's correct. Potter hasn't introduced us. How rude of him." said Malfoy, smiling slightly, and folding his arms across his chest. She gazed at him coolly.  
"That's because he doesn't know me. And you are..?" she asked.

"Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure, I'm sure. And this is Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini." He said, motioning to each in turn. She nodded in greeting to each.

"Excuse me, but I need to finish this conversation." Said Harry, angered by all the formalities.

"So finish it. What else is there to say?" asked Draco. Harry shook his head.

"I'm still angry… but I never saw that side of it. You really… never expected to accomplish it?" he asked slowly, as though still working out what this new information meant.

"How could I? Dumbledore, despite any contempt I held for his undying goodness and faith in people, was a man I respected. He was also one of the greatest wizards to ever live. He…I… I fully expected him to kill me. When we got there, I stood, talking to him, waiting for it. I couldn't do it, because… you all… well, your side needed its protector. It was strange, and pathetic. I still glowed at his every compliment, even though it was fast becoming clear I would actually destroy him…" said Malfoy. He had sunk into a reverie, wearing a sardonic smile, bittersweet emotions written on his face. He seemed oblivious to everyone. "I wish I had been strong enough… to say something…do something to stop Snape. I hate an unfair battle, despite whatever experiences with me might indicate otherwise. Don't get me wrong. I am not by any means sympathetic to your cause or converted or any such thing. I still believe in what the Dark Lord used to preach. However, he has sunk to new lows. On that rooftop, when I realized Dumbledore was dead… I… felt like yelling, like sinking to my knees in shock, like punching something. An impossible mountain of emotions tumbled onto my shoulders, completely unexpected. But I ran. And now, I hate myself for it. I didn't stand and fight you lot, I just ran. It was the worst thing I've ever had to do. And now, ironically enough, I'm condemned to a life time of running. Forever. Always running." Malfoy's jaw was clenched, he was spitting out words, and every thing he said dripped of sarcasm, irony, regret, and confusion.

"I don't know why I've told you. I came to fight, to instigate. But when I got here...I had to …tell you. For… I don't know… future reference. Maybe it was to settle something, between us, within myself. But if you attempt to turn me in, I won't go quietly, I warn you. In the war coming, chances of survival for any of us are slim at best, but for me, they are transparent. I'm going to fight for what I have left." declared Malfoy defiantly. Throughout his confession, Harry had stood silently, staring. Ron had sunk to the curb to take it all in, and Hermione sat nearby, head in hands. Nott and Zabini stood stone-faced behind their leader, their respect for him having grown, their loyalty newfound. The woman inched closer to Harry.

"It's a hard battle. But you need to decide to forgive him for everything, or not." she said to him quietly. Harry came out of his trance-like state, and looked at her. He searched her face, but somehow she sensed he was searching himself for the strength to forgive. Abruptly, Harry turned to Draco, and extended his hand. Draco took one long look at it, then at Harry.

"For everything?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"Everything." He replied

Draco took his hand.


End file.
